


The Hand That Holds The Power

by Nary



Category: Diablotin
Genre: A little bit of blood, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Awkward Conversations, Birthday Sex, Butt Plugs, Community: kink_bingo, Consensual Infidelity, Cuckolding, Dom/sub Play, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face Slapping, Femdom, Kink Bingo 2013, Kneeling, Love Bites, M/M, Married Couple, Multi, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:36:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could join me in providing her with a most ...memorable evening, I imagine she'd like that."</p><p>It took Aden a moment to catch up with the Emperor's intended meaning, and when he did he was uncertain how best to respond.  "All of us, together?" he managed to choke out, which did not sound nearly as laissez-faire as he'd intended it to.</p><p>"Why not?" Marl inquired.  "Would it make you uncomfortable?"</p><p>Aden thought about that, and decided it was more prudent to err on the side of debauchery in this case.  "Not at all.  I just wasn't sure whether Zivia would enjoy it."</p><p>"Well, that's up to us to ensure, isn't it," Marl said.  "She always loves to be the centre of attention."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hand That Holds The Power

"What are you getting Zivia for her birthday?" the Emperor asked when Aden Olivier paused for breath in the middle of his report on the construction of the edifice to surround the Arch, a project that had been ongoing for several years and was painfully over budget. 

"I...I hadn't decided yet," he stammered, thrown off guard. It wasn't like Marl to go off topic so drastically in the middle of a meeting. Usually he was quite astute and focused on financial matters, although his attention was known to wander occasionally when topics such as precedence and etiquette were discussed in council. Aden furrowed his brow, shuffling his papers. "Why?"

"She's had her eye on a pair of emerald earrings from Latham's and I wanted to know if you were going to get them for her, or whether I should."

Aden blinked. It was unusual in the extreme for the Emperor to allude to his liaison with Mme. Olivier, at least to her husband. They both understood the nature of the relationship, and for the sake of propriety and a harmonious working environment chose not to discuss it, or at least that had been Aden's understanding up to this point. Granted, the subject had been raised obliquely at best, but raised it had definitely been. "Your Majesty," he said, falling back on formality when uncertain how to react, "of course whatever you would deign to bestow upon my wife is infinitely gracious, but..."

"Stow the claptrap, Aden," Marl said casually. "You never call me 'your majesty' except in front of the council, and there's no one else here. Say what you're actually thinking, if you please."

Aden cleared his throat. "You want to give my wife what I suspect is a ridiculously expensive pair of earrings for her birthday. I'm afraid I can't allow that."

Marl arched an eyebrow. "Can't allow? How unexpected. Have you had a sudden attack of jealousy?"

"Not at all. It's just not in the budget," Aden said, smiling. "If you feel like cutting back on, oh, the number of guards hired this year, or the state dinner to celebrate the anniversary of your marriage, or the subsidies on grain that are keeping the price of bread low enough for most of your subjects to afford to eat..."

"They're not _that_ expensive," Marl muttered. 

"Frivolous expenditures look bad in times like these," Aden said more seriously. "The Scourge catches wind of this, runs a few headlines, and there go all our efforts to show how fiscally responsible your regime is."

Marl frowned, but nodded. "You're probably right. Void. I thought I had it all sorted out - she was going to love them, and forget all about the incident with the actress, and things would be wonderful again."

Aden was only vaguely aware of 'the incident with the actress' - he knew Zivia had been somewhat out of sorts lately, and since he was fairly sure it wasn't anything he had done, it was most likely Marl's fault. He had made the connection to the tabloids' rumours linking the Emperor with some ingenue only after the fact. Zivia had been Marl's mistress for six years, though, and had held his interest longer than almost anyone - Aden privately thought it was unlikely that some trivial dalliance on the Emperor's part would have any long-term effect on their relationship. "In lieu of an extravagant gift, she might better appreciate an evening in your company, something special, to demonstrate your continued affection," he suggested, feeling oddly self-conscious at making such suggestions to his wife's lover.

"Something special, eh." Marl considered for a moment, and a slow smile spread across his face. "You could join me in providing her with a most ...memorable evening, I imagine she'd like that."

It took Aden a moment to catch up with the Emperor's intended meaning, and when he did he was uncertain how best to respond. "All of us, together?" he managed to choke out, which did not sound nearly as laissez-faire as he'd intended it to.

"Why not?" Marl inquired. "Would it make you uncomfortable?"

Aden thought about that, and decided it was more prudent to err on the side of debauchery in this case. "Not at all. I just wasn't sure whether Zivia would enjoy it."

"Well, that's up to us to ensure, isn't it," Marl said. "She always loves to be the centre of attention."

Aden couldn't deny that. "Very well," he agreed.

"Your house would be best, for greater privacy. I'll leave it to you to make any necessary arrangements, and inform your wife." Marl flipped through the remaining pages of Aden's report. "Conclude this quickly, and then I'll call for some lunch."

"Yes, sire."

***

Aden made his way home slowly, thinking on the Emperor's proposition. Unlike Marl, he was less confident that Zivia would be thrilled at this prospect. She worked hard to keep the two men in her life compartmentalized as much as possible, rarely so much as speaking of one around the other, and he worried that such blurring of the lines between them might be upsetting to her. Still pondering the matter, he arrived at their house, the pleasant but not lavish place in the Place d'Iena that he'd first bought when he moved to the city as a young man. It was adequate for their needs, for now, although Zivia did sometimes express a wish that it had a larger dining room so they could entertain guests more easily.

Zivia was in the drawing room when he came in, doing some mending and keeping an eye on their daughter Lavinia, who was on the floor playing with her dolls. Lavinia got up when she saw her father and scampered across the hall to throw herself into his arms. "Hello there, Vinia," he said, kissing the top of her curly head. "Have you been a good girl today?"

"No!" Lavinia giggled. 

"No? Well, I'll have to talk to your mother about that," Aden said, carrying her back into the drawing room.

Zivia looked up from her mending and smiled. "She wasn't so bad. She did break the water pitcher, though, trying to pour herself a drink."

Putting their daughter down, Aden smiled back. "We'll get another one, it's no problem."

"Easy for you to say, you didn't have to clean up the water all over the kitchen," Zivia said, wrinkling her nose. They had no full-time servants - Aden made it a point of pride to do without them, and Zivia had (more or less) learned to adjust. She had adopted simpler ways of dressing and styling her hair for everyday wear, permitting her to manage without a maid (except on fancy occasions, when she normally went to her mother's house to be attired), and they had no nurse for Lavinia (despite Zivia's mother's dire warnings about what nursing would do to her figure.)

Ziv's attempts at cooking, however, had met with repeated failure, and after coming home one too many times to find her sitting in the middle of the kitchen crying, with dinner either burned or raw or sometimes both at once, Aden had conceded that engaging a cook to come in for an hour or so each day was not an unreasonable compromise. In fact, he could smell chicken roasting from the direction of the kitchen, which was certainly a step up from the street food he would have probably purchased in his bachelor days.

Aden sat down beside his wife and took her hand in his. "Now, I don't know if Lavinia's been too naughty for a treat…" he said, teasing.

"Treat?" his daughter exclaimed, looking up.

"I was thinking that you could go to stay at your grandmother's house for a sleepover one night, wouldn't that be fun?"

Lavinia loved exploring the Rademacher mansion's many nooks and crannies, and Sydona tended to spoil all her grandchildren, so the little girl's excited squeals were no surprise. Zivia gave him a curious look, though she didn't say anything in front of their daughter.

"It might be nice to have a… grown-up fun night for your birthday," he said under his breath, smiling at his wife. 

"I'll talk to Mother, but I'm sure she won't mind," Zivia said cheerfully. "Maybe she can take the opportunity to instill some ladylike virtues in this little monkey," she added, watching Lavinia turn somersaults across the room.

"Unlikely," said Aden, chuckling. "But I'm sure they'll enjoy themselves."

"And I'm sure we will too," Zivia murmured, squeezing his hand.

After they had eaten dinner and Lavinia had been put to bed (insisting on three stories from her father, which he gladly provided) Aden was able to speak more privately with Zivia. He found her in their bedroom, brushing out her hair. "Can I help?" he asked, and she willingly turned over the brush to him so that he could stand behind her and smooth her long, black tresses.

"'Grown-up fun night'?" she teased. "I thought I was going to burst out laughing."

"Well, I didn't know what else to call it!" He hesitated momentarily before pressing onwards, the words coming out in a rush. "Marl wants to give you a special night for your birthday and he asked me to make it happen."

In the mirror, he could see a slight frown cross Zivia's face. "What sort of special night?"

"With both of us there," he told her, busying himself with a particularly stubborn tangle. "Both of us giving you whatever you want."

Zivia was silent for so long that he worried she might be upset. "If you're not interested," Aden added, "just tell me and I'll explain it to him. I'll take whatever consequences there might be from saying no."

"That's sweet," Zivia murmured, "but if he's angry I'll be the one to handle it, not you."

"We both would," Aden protested. "I bear the brunt when he's unhappy too, you know."

She just gave him an 'of course, dear' look. "You may inform the Emperor that I would be pleased to accept his offer," she said, formal but with a slight smile on her lips. Aden nodded, not sure whether to be relieved or worried about what was to come. "Do you need to talk to the Chancellor about this?" she asked, eyeing him in the mirror's reflection.

This was not a political question - Guillame Rionet, the Lord Chancellor, had been Aden's lover since before he married Zivia. Aden considered what he might have to say, and nodded. "I'll tell Guy, but I don't think he'll mind. As long as it won't make Council meetings awkward," he added with a slight smile. "He's asked me for stranger things than this before, he probably owes me."

Zivia knew perfectly well what most of those stranger things were. "Are he and Portia thinking of having any other children?" she asked, teasing her husband gently.

"Possibly," he admitted. "I know they've been talking about it, Janelle's almost five now after all, but Guy isn't sure how they want to manage things this time… Anyway, I'm sure he'll be understanding of the, ah, circumstances here."

Zivia turned to face Aden, looking up at him, her face more serious. "You know what Marl likes. Will you be able to deal with it if he wants to play rough?"

Aden had seen the bruises on his wife's arms, her breasts, the finger marks at her throat, but since she had long ago assured him it was consensual, he had never worried about it overmuch. The injuries weren't severe - or at least, he assumed that she wasn't getting healed before coming home. He still wasn't sure if she truly had a penchant for such violent treatment, for she had never asked for it from him, preferring lovemaking where she firmly held the upper hand, but at the very least she was evidently able to tolerate it from the Emperor. "If you're enjoying it, then I will too," he promised her, but Zivia still seemed uneasy.

"Whatever happens, don't try to stop him." She stood up, putting her arms around Aden. "You just have to trust that I can handle him, that I won't let things get out of control." 

"I trust you," Aden said, kissing her cheek, but her caution only made him more apprehensive. 

***

The eve of Zivia’s 25th birthday arrived swiftly, or so it seemed to Aden. She had taken Lavinia to her mother’s manor that afternoon, to the delight of both child and grandmother. The house seemed quiet without her, Aden thought, but it was nice to share a peaceful dinner with his wife for once, even if his nerves made it difficult to eat much. Afterwards, he presented her with his gift - a small, delicately-wrapped box containing a pair of jade teardrop earrings. They weren't the emeralds Marl claimed she wanted (and had cost a fraction of the price) but she seemed happy with them regardless, taking off the pearls she was wearing to put them on right away. 

The Emperor teleported in shortly after eight, appearing without warning in their entryway. "Good evening," he said, as Zivia hurried over to greet him. He embraced her affectionately, while Aden stood back, watching, trying to decide how he felt about it. He knew in an abstract fashion that they were lovers, but being confronted with it so plainly was still a little difficult to accept. He felt a surge of possessiveness, ridiculous really under the circumstances, but something primitive inside him told him that Zivia was _his_ , and he had to talk that part down as he watched Marl kiss his wife. 

At length they drew apart, but Marl kept an arm around Zivia's shoulders as he greeted Aden. "Welcome," Aden said, smiling in what he hoped was a natural way. "Can I offer you something to drink?" He waved a hand to usher Marl into the drawing room, and the three of them proceeded in to sit down. Aden almost wished they could dispense with this preamble and just get on with it, but he supposed it was necessary for politeness' sake - and besides, he wanted Zivia to enjoy herself. 

"Brandy, if you have it," Marl said, and Aden nodded, going to the liquor cabinet to pour him a glass. 

"One for me as well," Zivia said, which surprised him a little. She didn't usually drink anything stronger than wine in the evenings, and even then not often. He wondered whether this was yet another thing he didn't know about her, or whether it was just a sign of nerves on her part. But he poured her some as she asked, and after serving them, went to get another for himself. He let the glass warm in his hand a little before sipping it, savouring the burn down his throat. 

"You have him well trained, Ziv," said Marl with a hint of a smirk. His hand was lazily stroking her shoulder, the loosely-curled strands of hair that fell there, and Aden saw how she leaned into his touch. 

"My husband is very good to me," she agreed, smiling, which made Aden feel a little better. "He does whatever I ask."

"We'll have to test that out later," Marl replied, sipping his drink languidly. "Would you enjoy that, my dear?"

"Certainly," Zivia told him, but she gave Aden a look that he struggled to interpret. He thought she might be trying to reassure him, but maybe it was meant as a warning instead. "Come here, darling," she said to him sweetly, so Aden approached, but when he moved to sit beside her she shook her head. "On your knees," she instructed him, pointing to the floor beside her. He hesitated a moment before doing as he was told, kneeling at her feet. She leaned forward to stroke his hair, and he turned his head in the direction of her hand, trying to kiss it, but she kept just out of reach, teasing him. 

"We didn't finish our drinks yet," he managed, even though a few moments before he had wished they could just get on with it.

Zivia laughed and took a swig from her glass before going back to playing idly with his hair. "So finish yours," she told him. Aden obediently swallowed the rest of his brandy, too fast, the delicious smoothness lost in his haste to get it down. He set the empty glass on the end table, feeling light-headed and warm. Zivia's index finger traced a line down his cheek to his still-damp lips, running lightly across them. He tried to lick her and she swiftly brought her hand down to his chin instead, holding it firmly. "Behave," she said sternly, and bent to kiss him. He could see out of the corner of his eye how Marl was watching them, keeping his hand on Zivia's back, but he found he cared less when Zivia's tongue was pressing against his, when he could look straight down her dress as she leaned forward…

"Mmm," Zivia sighed, drawing back at last, licking her lips. Marl's free hand had crept up to the back of her neck, and he roughly turned her to kiss him as she leaned back in her seat, rising up on one knee so that he loomed over her. She whimpered a little, then planted a hand on his chest and pushed him back sharply, forcing him down again. "You behave too," she told him. Aden raised an eyebrow at that, but Marl just laughed.

"Is that how it's going to be, then?" he asked her, amused. "I suppose I did promise you whatever you wanted for your birthday."

"Right now I want to finish my drink, uninterrupted by greedy men," she said dryly, and proceeded to do so, in no particular hurry. "Better," she said when it was done, and stood, drawing herself up to her full height. "I don't know that either of you deserve this, but since you're so impatient, we can go upstairs now." She headed for the stairs, leaving them to glance at each other and follow her, Aden scrambling to his feet, Marl moving at a more leisurely pace. 

Zivia waited for them outside the bedroom door, catching each of them by the lapel of his coat, holding them still, looking from one to the other. "Tonight, I own both of you," she told them, her voice cool and composed.

Aden nodded - she already owned him in a way Guy didn't, for all they loved one another just as deeply - but Marl looked more cynical. "Since it's your birthday, you can amuse yourself as you like, Zivia." His tone clearly conveyed that he intended to see her back in her place soon enough.

Still holding them by the lapels, she drew them into the bedroom. It was dark, but soon brightened when Aden reached out and tipped the shutters on one of the magical lamps. "Clothes off," Zivia instructed them, running her hands down their chests teasingly before pushing them away from her. Aden shrugged off his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, while Marl tried to start getting Zivia's gown undone, until she slapped him - not too hard, but hard enough startle him. "I meant your clothes," she explained firmly. Marl frowned, but started working on untying his tie instead. 

Aden eyed the Emperor surreptitiously as they undressed. He knew they looked alike - people had remarked on it before. Once, he'd taken the time to work out how closely they were related, and had concluded they were fourth cousins. Not close enough to be noteworthy, and he wasn't even sure that Marl was aware of the relationship, since Aden's descent from the Kizers was through a well-concealed bastard line. But nevertheless the Kizer look showed plainly in both of them - vibrant green eyes set in a lean face, thin lips, a certain eager hunger about the expression that could never quite be concealed. They could easily have traded suits with minimal alterations, they were that close in build. Marl's hair was slightly darker, and had more of a wave to it than Aden's, but that was the main difference between them. He wondered for the first time whether Zivia had noticed the similarities, whether it was part of what had drawn her to him in the first place, but he pushed those thoughts aside uneasily, turning away instead to step out of his trousers. He glanced over at Marl, suddenly worrying about how they compared in other areas - would it be rude to have a larger cock than the Emperor? To his relief, they seemed evenly matched in that respect as well.

Zivia watched, leaning back against the foot of the bed, apparently pleased with what she saw. "Disgusting," she said, but a smile was playing about her lips. "Both hard already - you can't control yourselves, either of you."

"I wasn't aware self-control was expected," Marl replied, advancing on her again. This time she permitted him to run a hand up the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. Emboldened, Aden drew near too, thinking to perhaps kiss her on the shoulder or the cheek, but she planted a hand on his chest to keep him at bay for the moment. He waited, frustrated, wanting more but being denied.

"Aden, my dear," she said at last, turning to look at him, "if you can't be patient, I'll be forced to punish you. You don't want that, do you?"

Aden squirmed a little, uncertain how she wanted him to answer. Her expression might have appeared cold, but her eyes were soft, loving, and he trusted her, knew that she wouldn't go too far. It would be safe for him to say 'yes', she would take care of him if that was what he asked for. But on the other hand, maybe with Marl there she wanted him to be good for the moment, play along with the game... 

"She asked you a question," Marl said sharply. 

"No," Aden blurted, startled. "I don't want that. I'll behave."

"Good boy," said Zivia, smiling. "Before you're allowed anything else, though, there's something you have to do." She paused for a long moment, letting him imagine what it might be, before continuing smoothly. "Go get your plug, and put it in. You can get yourself slick first," she added sweetly. 

On any other night, Aden would have gladly done as she asked without hesitation. But with Marl watching with that superior little smirk on his face, it made him feel a degree of embarrassment he wasn't used to, a hot, nervous feeling, not entirely unpleasant but a bit disconcerting. He went to Zivia's vanity, where she kept the box with their playthings, and took out the wooden plug with the wide base.

"What else do you have in there?" Marl asked Zivia playfully. "A nice big cock to fuck him up the ass?"

Aden blushed as Zivia replied, "We've tried it, but he much prefers the real thing. The plug is our little compromise." It was true, but having her tell Marl still made his face burn and his stomach quiver. Thinking about it more, though, and especially watching her face as she spoke to Marl, he realized it was a good sort of quivering: excitement and anticipation mixed with another, more complex emotion, some strange blend of shame and pride that she knew he could take this treatment, that she was showing him and their relationship off to Marl.

Noticing his hesitation, Zivia gave him a stern look. "Do you need me to come over there and put it in you myself? I won't be gentle."

"No," he said quickly, "I can do it myself." Even though his face was burning, he made himself take the bottle of oil from Zivia's dresser, pouring a little over his fingers and the plug together, until they were nicely slippery. He knew from experience that he would be able to take it more easily with a little warm-up first, so he leaned against the dresser in order to work his slick fingers into his ass. It was strangely exhilarating to know that they were watching him - he could see their reflections in the mirror, although he didn't dare turn his head to look.

"Mmm," Zivia murmured as he fingered himself open, then began slowing working the plug in a little at a time. "You're a good little whore now that I've trained you properly, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Aden whispered, then gasped as the plug slid the rest of the way inside him, holding him stretched open. "Thank you, love."

"Don't thank me yet," she warned him. In the mirror he saw her move to straddle Marl as he sat on the bench at the foot of their bed, the silk of her gown rumpled where he was clutching her hips. The sight was unexpectedly arousing, watching the way she was grinding her hips against him, catching a glimpse of her pale legs as the dress rode higher. He waited, watching their reflections, for Zivia to give him another order.

"Come over here, Aden," she said at last, breaking away from Marl's kiss although she remained on his lap. Aden crossed the room, walking more carefully with the plug wedged inside him. "You can undress me now," she instructed him haughtily, not even deigning to look in his direction. Aden nodded and began to undo the buttons of her dress, parting the silk down to her waist, helping her to slide her arms free of the tight sleeves. Beneath it, she was laced into a tight corset, making her slim waist even narrower. Her breasts were pushed up by the snug-fitting undergarment, swelling above its top with each breath she took. Aden reached around to touch one of them and found Marl's hand there first - they both drew back as if shocked and Zivia laughed. "Idiots," she chided them. "You're bound to touch one another at some point with what I have planned, you'll have to get used to it."

"What do you have planned?" Marl inquired, caressing her other breast instead. 

Zivia stood, moving out of reach of his touch, to permit Aden to finish disrobing her. "I want both of you to do as I say, when I say it, and stop pestering me with questions," she replied as her husband slid the dress off over her hips so that she could step out of it. She had nothing on apart from the corset and her silk stockings, and the dark hair of her pussy made a lovely contrast against her skin. Aden set the dress aside neatly without having to be told, and she rewarded him with a little smile over her shoulder. 

"Corset too?" he asked, hoping that question would be permitted at least.

"Yes," Zivia nodded, lifting her arms slightly to allow him to begin to unlace it. Marl leaned back, watching, stroking himself lazily as Aden removed the last of her clothing. She lifted one delicate foot and used it to shove his hand away from his cock. "Filthy animal," she sighed, as if impatient with his repeated misbehaviour. There was something thrilling, Aden thought, about hearing her say such things to the most powerful man in the Empire, knowing that tonight her power was even greater than the Emperor's.

Marl looked frustrated, but complied reluctantly. "It's only because I want you so badly," he told her, leaning towards her once more.

"I know," she replied. "You'll have what you want soon enough, but you have to be patient. I know you're not used to that, because you're a spoiled little brat, but I'm sure you can manage to behave if you make an effort."

Marl gave a short, sharp laugh at that. "You're lucky I'm not putting you over my knee for saying things like that."

"Another time," she told him with a smirk. "Tonight it's my turn. And if you keep on misbehaving, don't think I won't punish you for it. You too," she told Aden, who nodded obediently. He already knew about Zivia's punishments - sometimes he angled for them, disobeying her on purpose in order to receive them, and he half-wondered if Marl was doing the same. It would be unexpected, but then, maybe this was part of his idea of a present, to give Zivia this chance to exercise her dominant streak. Trying to puzzle all the intricacies of this situation out was giving him a headache - Aden forced himself to go back to simply concentrating on doing what Zivia wanted, trusting her, letting her control the scene instead of trying to analyze it too deeply himself.

Finally freed from the constraints of her undergarments, Zivia moved to stretch herself out on the bed. Marl shifted on his seat, turning to look up at her with an obvious admiration. Aden stood by, waiting until she gave him permission to join her. After what felt like an uncomfortably long time, as she watched them both, stroking her breasts and running her hands down her body, she finally relented. "Come here, both of you," she said, patting the bed on either side of her. 

The men moved quickly to join her, Aden on her right and Marl on her left. She took their hands and placed them on her stomach, one above the other. "Right here, good." Aden could feel how she trembled slightly, despite her outward appearance of calm control, and knew that she must be more excited and nervous than she was permitting them to see. "Now," she said once she had them where she wanted them, "you'll be allowed to fuck me. Marl first, while you watch, Aden. After he's finished, you can have your turn."

Marl smirked, perhaps seeing this as a sign of some favouritism on her part, but Aden thought he knew better - she knew her husband would always be considerate enough to bring her off, and maybe she wanted to save that for last. The idea of having her right after the Emperor was finished with her, while she was still slick inside from him and his scent was still all over her, was a little disconcerting, but he thought he would be able to manage.

Having been given his permission, Marl wasted no time in mounting Zivia. She drew her knees up eagerly, allowing him to slide into her without further delay. Aden could feel his face reddening as he watched them together, watched his wife moan and grab hard at the Emperor's shoulders, drawing him deeper inside her with the tight grip of her legs. He wondered if the look on Marl's face was how he looked when he was fucking her too, but he couldn't watch that for long, it was too uncomfortable. Instead he tried to concentrate on the sounds Zivia made, the way she writhed and squirmed beneath her lover. He didn't know if this was typical of how they fucked, or if they were altering their normal behaviour because he was there, or because of Zivia's birthday demands, but he found it oddly reassuring. Zivia was enjoying it, he could tell that much - he knew the sounds of her lovemaking intimately, and was sure he'd be able to tell if she was faking it. He believed her when she said that she went along with Marl's desires willingly, but it was good to know that she felt more than just acceptance for him, that she received pleasure from him as well as pain.

Zivia turned her head in Aden's direction, as if making sure he was still watching, and gave him a quick, breathless smile. Then she arched up, kissing Marl's shoulder before biting down on it hard enough to make him gasp. He pushed back and away from her until he was kneeling between her legs, still half inside her, then pinned her hands above her head, gripping her wrists hard enough that Aden thought she would have bruises tomorrow. She struggled but wasn't able to break free. "Don't get carried away," he warned her, and thrust into her hard enough to make her cry out.

"It's... unh! You promised!" she snarled. Marl paused mid-thrust, and Aden thought he might have deliberately loosened his grip, so that when Zivia squirmed again she was able to pull one hand free and then the other. Once they were loosed, she slapped Marl across the face with enough force to leave a hand-print on his cheek and make his eyes water. "You're a brute," she gasped at him, "nothing but a beast, my lovely monster." Her voice turned the words into a perverse caress, matched by the way she curved her fingers around his neck to pull him back down to her again. "Slower now," she instructed him with a whisper, and he obliged his mistress.

"Aden?" she murmured, reaching a hand out to him after a few moments. 

He was at once attentive. "Yes, love?"

"Kiss my breasts," Zivia ordered sweetly. "I want you, want both, more..." Her pale skin was flushed and her green eyes half-closed, overwhelmed with need.

Aden nodded, and made eye contact with Marl long enough to convey that he needed him to move a little to give him access to Zivia's breasts. The Emperor grudgingly propped himself up once more, allowing Aden to bow his head and kiss his wife's nipple, at least the one he could reach more easily. Zivia's breath caught as he licked its pale pink tip, teasing and sucking it, sliding his hand between their sweat-slick bodies so that he could stroke her other breast at the same time. The feel of her nipple in his mouth, between his fingers, made his cock ache, and he risked giving himself a few strokes with his free hand, hoping no one would notice. 

It wasn't long before Zivia began to thrash and shudder, striking out wildly at Marl, at Aden, whichever she could reach in her frenzy. She caught Aden a glancing blow, startling him out of his furtive self-pleasure, but struck Marl more solidly on the chest, leaving a livid mark, and finally shuddered with her release.

As she lay beneath him, still panting, Marl hesitated as if unsure whether he should continue or not. "...More?" he asked her.

"Don't stop," she said, half-ordering, half-begging. "You can finish now, anything you want, anything...."

Aden drew back slightly at Marl's slow, predatory smile, giving him the room he needed. The Emperor's hand strayed lightly across Zivia's flushed throat, eliciting a moan. "Maybe later, hm, darling?" he murmured to her, bending lower to kiss the spot he'd just stroked. She didn't reply, or not in words. Soon his pace quickened until he was driving into her more fiercely, so rough that Zivia cried out with each stroke. His lips, his teeth, his fingers left reddened marks on her skin, and she reached up to snarl her fingers in his hair, gripping tight as though she could control him that way. Her free hand, though, crept out to clasp Aden's, clinging hard to him as well.

When Marl stiffened, giving a harsh cry that he muffled with a bite to her shoulder, Aden shut his eyes - it was too much for him, too intimate. Only when all sounds had quieted to two sets of breathless panting did he risk opening them again. Marl was collapsed across Zivia as she stroked his hair tenderly, her other hand still twined with Aden's.

"Off," she grumbled eventually, and Marl rolled to her side, lying sprawled on his back. 

Aden looked over at his wife uncertainly. "Do you still want me to..." He worried she might be too sore and tired for him after such rough treatment.

"You're not getting out of it that easily," she warned him, her eyes flashing as she turned to face him. "But first I want you to lick my pussy - clean me up a little bit."

Aden's reluctance must have shown on his face, but he nodded when she arched a single eyebrow at him. "Yes, love. Of course. Whatever you want." He slid down until he was lying between her spread thighs, and could see plainly the seed that was leaking out of her, running down her slit and onto the sheets. Mixed with a hint of blood, he noticed - she must be hurt, because he didn't think it was time for her courses to begin, that wouldn't be for another week at least. She whimpered as he lowered his mouth to her cunt, even though he was trying to be as gentle as he could. He forced himself not to think about the fact that he was tasting Marl's come, concentrating on Zivia's taste instead, the familiar salty wetness that was being smeared over his chin the more he tongued her. She pushed back against him, lifting her hips, and he could tell that despite the rough treatment she'd just received, she still wanted more. He sucked her swollen clit gingerly into his mouth and she gave a cry of pleasure once again, rocking her hips more steadily.

He heard Marl whispering to her, and glanced up to see him stroking her breasts, murmuring things Aden couldn't quite make out. Somehow that, more than anything so far, made him jealous - he was the one giving her pleasure right now, and having Marl intrude on it felt wrong. He buried his frown between her legs instead, trying to ignore what was happening above her waist. 

She didn't let him finish her off that way, though he would have been glad to do so if she'd wished it. Instead, after a few more minutes, she told him to stop, drawing him up to lie on top of her. Her fingers sought out his cock, still hard as steel, and she smiled. "I see you somehow managed to keep from coming all over yourself before I was through with you." He blushed, achingly aware of the plug still lodged in his ass, of the sensual way she was stroking him, and nodded. "Don't think I didn't see you playing with yourself a few minutes ago," she told him with a smirk. "I didn't give you permission for that."

"No, Zivia," he admitted, "you didn't. I'm sorry."

She nodded curtly. "For that, you won't be allowed to come inside me tonight. You can fuck me, but before you finish you have to pull out and jerk yourself off so that we can both see."

Aden bit his lip. It was far from the worst punishment she could give him - at least she was letting him come. "On you?" he asked hopefully. That would be better than nothing.

"We'll see," she replied, patting his cheek. "If you do well for me, maybe."

Marl chuckled, but Aden ignored him and simply nodded again. "Uh, how do you want it...?"

"Be gentle," she murmured. "Very gentle, and slow. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Oh, of course, anything, I can do anything for you, whatever you want..." He knew he was babbling and didn't care, as long as she knew he loved her and wanted nothing more than to give her exactly what she desired.

"Good boy," she told him, making him blush with pride this time. "Then fuck me, and try to make it last."

Aden slid into her bruised and aching pussy as carefully as he could. Even so she winced, but nodded for him to continue. He didn't know how much of the hot slickness he was feeling was hers and how much was the Emperor's seed, but it didn't seem to matter now. Zivia was his, and for the time being, that was all he needed to know. He buried his face in the dark spill of her hair, thrusting slowly and gently, trying to keep his breathing steady, not get too carried away despite having had to be patient for so long. Beneath him, Zivia gave little whimpering cries and kissed his shoulders, his arms, wherever she could reach. He didn't know if she would be eager, or even able, to come again, but he did what he could to try and help her reach that peak if she wanted it, rocking his hips gently, paying close attention to her sounds, her movements.

The plug in his ass made it more difficult to keep going slowly, though. Several times he had to consciously calm himself, avoid speeding up in a selfish effort to reach his own orgasm sooner. "Eager, isn't he," Marl remarked idly, still lounging beside Zivia on the bed, now propped up on one arm to watch them. "Aren't you being a bit harsh on the poor fellow? He can hardly contain himself, and I can't say I blame him."

"Take his plug out then, if you feel so sorry for him," Zivia gasped. She was looking at Aden as she said it, almost smiling, and he could tell she wasn't expecting Marl to go along with her suggestion. They were both surprised when Marl rose up on his knees and ran his hand down Aden's spine. The gesture made him shiver. It was disconcerting, arousing but also more than a little alarming. Aden tried not to twitch or grimace too much as the Emperor - as the man he worked for - as Marl's fingers pushed the plug further into him, but he couldn't hold back a moan when he twisted it slightly.

Marl chuckled. "Like that, do you?" Aden didn't reply - there was nothing he could think of to say that wouldn't make things worse. He could tell that Marl wasn't toying with him because he was attracted to him, or even because he thought Zivia would enjoy the sight. He was doing it purely as an exercise in power, seeing how much he could get away with, how far he could push Aden's limits. Maybe he even wanted to see if Aden would dare to tell him to stop. But Zivia had specifically told him not to tell Marl no, that she would take care of things... He held his silence, trying to focus on his wife's face, which now had a slightly furrowed brow.

"Hold on," Marl told him, and without further warning, yanked the plug free. Aden gasped, suddenly and roughly emptied. He didn't know what Marl was planning - was he going to fuck him? Could he even say no if that was what the Emperor intended? His mind was racing, trying to come up with possible ways out of this, but nothing was presenting itself...

He was distracted by Zivia's more vigorous movements beneath him, the way her fingers were digging hard into his arms, and by the touch of Marl's hand on his back again. "I... I have to," he managed to gasp, struggling to draw back so he wouldn't disobey Zivia's instructions by coming inside her. She loosed her grip on him, allowing him to extricate himself, but to his dismay he ended up wedged between her and Marl. He stroked himself frantically as he tried to finish off before anything more awkward happened.

The Emperor's hand was on his shoulder now, and then it was wrapping around his neck, pinning him tight, tighter... He tried to draw a breath and found he could barely do so. His field of vision narrowed, focusing in on Zivia, as he struggled fitfully for the wisps of air he was still able to suck in. Marl could kill him, the panicky thought came, could pretend it was just an accident... But he wasn't tightening his grip further, he was just holding it there, letting Aden struggle against it helplessly. He held the power, and that was, at that moment, enough. 

"Let him go, Marl," he heard her say sharply, in a tone that said she wasn't playing anymore. "He's mine." The steel in her voice sent a sudden thrill down Aden's spine. The grip on his throat withdrew and he felt almost painfully lightheaded, air searing into his aching lungs. With that release, to his surprise, he came against Zivia's thigh so hard he nearly blacked out.

He was still lying there, spent and gasping, when Marl rose from the bed and began to dress himself once more. In his present state, however, Aden didn't have the energy or the presence of mind to worry about whether he was offended or not. The Emperor, he thought distantly, would just have to cope. 

Zivia, however, crawled to the foot of the bed so that she could speak to him before he left. She was thanking Marl, he could hear that much, telling him how much she had enjoyed her birthday present. The Emperor bent to kiss her, stroking her tangled hair, and Aden decided that he couldn't possibly be terribly cross. "Good night," he managed to mutter before Marl teleported away.

He was relieved when Zivia slid back up to lie beside him, wrapping her arms around him, checking his throat for bruises. "I'm sorry, love," she whispered, "I didn't think he would try anything like that on you. Are you all right?"

"Wonderful," he murmured, smiling sleepily against her shoulder. "You protected me. You told him I'm yours." 

***

The Inner Council meeting that was scheduled for the next afternoon was only slightly awkward. Aden had been worried it would be worse. He wore a shirt with a high collar to hide any incriminating marks, and deliberately maintained as professional a demeanour as he could. If Marl was angry with him he didn't show it overtly, but he did dismiss the meeting early. Maybe he was just tired, Aden thought hopefully. He was quite sure that Guillame at least noticed that something was up, but fortunately he had better sense than to say anything until after the others had dispersed. 

They took their lunch together, as they did whenever their work allowed, and over sandwiches and tea in one of the quieter Imperial gardens, Aden explained to him what had happened, glossing over a few details perhaps, but leaving nothing out. "Do you think it was a mistake?" he asked at last. "Did I handle it wrong, or piss him off too much?"

"I'd trust Zivia on this one," Guillame suggested. "If she says things are all right, then she probably knows best. But I don't think Marl would hold a grudge against you over this - it was his idea in the first place. If anything, it sounds like he got exactly what he wanted." He risked taking Aden's hand for a moment and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It doesn't sound like it was entirely awful for you either."

"No," Aden admitted. "But that sort of makes it worse in a way. Because what if he wants to do it again, or she does?"

"You can deal with that if it ever happens," Guillame told him. "Meanwhile, just go on as if everything is normal. I find that works quite well in most situations."

Guillame was right, as usual. Over the next several weeks, Aden had any number of meetings with the Emperor, and nothing out of the ordinary took place at any of them. There were days when Marl might be ill-tempered, or impatient, but he never said anything that made Aden think it had anything to do with what had happened on the night of Zivia's birthday. The closest he came to alluding to it was asking Aden once if his throat was bothering him, but even then Aden wasn't sure if it actually meant anything or was just an offer of a glass of water during a long meeting. There was a look on Marl's face that made him think it wasn't that simple, though. 

At home, Zivia assured him that everything was fine, but mostly didn't want to talk about it too much. She seemed content to let things go back to the way they'd been before, everything safely compartmentalized and separate, and Aden was secretly rather relieved. When she told him she was expecting a baby, though, he couldn't help doing the calculations back and wondering if that was when it had happened, or if it had been some time when it was just the two of them - or just her and Marl. Finally he decided it didn't matter - the child would be his in every way that was important, regardless of the circumstances of its conception. Even when Zivia suggested that if it was a girl they could name her Marlena, he was able to smile and agree that that would be lovely. 

The next morning, he was scheduled to deliver a report to the Emperor concerning annual revenues from the Imperial-owned forests and mines, but Marl stopped him before he could begin. "I understand your wife is expecting another child," he said, and Aden braced himself for whatever might be coming next.

"Yes, that's true," he agreed, as calmly as he was able. Apparently Zivia had broken the news to Marl, then. He wondered how she'd told him, or if she'd been nervous about it at all.

There was a moment of silence, and then Marl smiled. "Well, that's wonderful! Congratulations on your future offspring." He placed a slight but perceptible emphasis on the word 'your'. Aden nodded, understanding what was being implied. Marl could never, and would never, lay any claim to paternity of the child. Aden had known that to be the case, logically - such a scandal would have been unthinkable - but it was still something of a relief to know that Marl was pleased for them, and harboured no evident resentment or further particular interest in the matter.

"Thank you," he said, smiling back more genuinely than he had in weeks. Even though they hadn't discussed what had happened, and probably never would, he felt there was an understanding between them, an equilibrium that had been reached. Marl still had power over him, of course, but he chose not to exert it. Perhaps now, Aden thought, he would be able to stop dwelling on his worries too much and simply get on with the work of managing an Empire.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


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